


Duty of Care

by Somniare



Category: Midsomer Murders
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2615153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somniare/pseuds/Somniare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What exactly is Jones doing here?” he asked, perplexed.<br/>Sarah leaned on the worktop with one hand and perched the other on her hip.  “Why didn’t you tell me Ben was sick?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duty of Care

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Barcardivodka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barcardivodka/gifts).



> Written during Mini Wrimo to a prompt from Barcardivodka  
> Many thanks to Small_Hobbit for a swift beta.   
> I own nothing except the errors.

 

* * *

 

John Barnaby stared at the flushed, sleeping form on the couch.

Ben Jones’s head rested on John’s favourite cushion, and his favourite telly-watching blanket was draped over Jones’s body.  When John bent forward and stretched one hand towards Jones’s shoulder, Sykes, who had curled in a ball behind Jones’s knees, raised his head and growled a warning.

“All right,” John muttered.  “I can take a hint.”

“Oh, good you’re home.”  Sarah came through from the kitchen.  “Come in here and leave Ben in peace.  Sykes’ll keep an eye on him.”

John hurried through the house.  “What exactly is Jones doing here?” he asked, perplexed.

Sarah leaned on the worktop with one hand and perched the other on her hip.  “Why didn’t you tell me Ben was sick?”

“What?”

“When I asked you this morning why Ben hadn’t picked you up this week you said he was on leave; you didn’t say it was sick leave.  I only found out when I bumped into his gran in Sainsbury’s.”

“Why did you ask her about Jones?”

“I didn’t ask; she told me.  She was very upset he’d been _abandoned_ – her words, not mine.”

“Abandoned?” John spluttered.  “He’s an adult.  Perfectly capable of taking care of himself.”

“Not according to his gran.”  Sarah raised an eyebrow.  “Not in this instance.”

“So you took it on yourself to be… what – chief nursemaid?  The Good Samaritan?”

“No need for that tone, John Barnaby.”  She turned her attention to the pot simmering on the stove.  “I agreed to go with Mrs Jones to look in on Ben for myself, if only to put her mind to rest… and mine.  But after seeing him, I had to agree with Mrs Jones’s assertion he’d recover more quickly with a little care and nurturing; she looked so grateful.”

John pressed his lips together tightly and glanced back towards the living room.  “So you put him on _my_ couch, under _my_ blanket, and gave him _my_ favourite cushion to use as a pillow.”  As soon as the words left his mouth John knew he sounded like a petulant child.  Worse still, he found he didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty for it.  Yes, Jones was his sergeant and therefore his responsibility – on the job.  Off-duty was an entirely different matter, however.  Wasn’t it?

“Ben’s on _our_ couch,” Sarah said pointedly, “because I didn’t think it was safe to attempt to get him up the stairs and into the spare room by myself.”

“But why is he _here_ at all?”  A small voice told John he was being selfish, but he felt he’d earned the right, today at least.  It had been a long day; short-staffed, and without Jones around, John had had to do most of the legwork on their current spate of burglary cases by himself.  All he wanted to do was sink into his couch with a glass of wine and watch something mindless on the telly.  That wasn’t going to happen while a feverish sergeant was stretched out full length on it.  “My inspector never felt the need to see me through any illnesses, not even when I caught chicken pox that year.” ~~~~

“That’s because you had someone else at home, dear – me.  Ben’s on his own.”

“He’s got his gran.  Or what about his mother?  He’s a local lad – there has to be someone he can call on.”

Sarah’s expression turned grave.  “His gran has enough to worry about looking after herself – I got the distinct impression that while she canget out and about, it’s not always easy on her own, and it sounded to me as though she relies on Ben quite a bit to take care of things around the house for her.  I did ask if there was other family who could help, like Ben’s parents…”  Sarah hesitated.  “I don’t think there’s a happy tale there, John.”

It struck John how little he really knew about his sergeant.  Jones had mentioned grandparents, aunts, and uncles in conversation, but never his parents or any siblings.  John had never considered Jones to be a particularly secretive person – even when Jones had kept quiet about his relationship with Susie Bellingham he hadn’t denied it when asked directly or become overly defensive – but now John had to question what else he didn’t know about DS Ben Jones.  John tried to put himself in Jones’s place.  Had he been the sick sergeant, John was certain he would have resented his chief inspector’s wife taking him under her wing, so to speak.  But, as Sarah had pointed out, that was because John had someone who he knew would take care of him.  John wasn’t an unfeeling or harsh man; who was he to deny someone a little care and comfort?

“Right,” he said quietly.  “Well, we can’t leave him where he is; that couch is going to kill his back if he lies there too long.”  He gave Sarah a small smile of apology and understanding.  “Is the spare room ready?  Between the two of us I’m sure we can get him safely upstairs.”

“It is.  And thank you.”  She kissed him gently.  “By the way, I’m making your favourite soup, and it should be just about ready by the time we get Ben settled.”

“Is this where you tell me my favourite is also Jones’s favourite?”  Sarah rarely made soup except during school breaks, when she had the extra time.  Making it for their sick ‘guest’ would be a very Sarah thing to do, although John wouldn’t put it past Sarah to have planned to bribe him with food if he’d been upset about Jones being in their home.  The promise of Sarah’s minestrone, and her mother’s cheese scones, had seen John agreeing to a great many things around the house he might not have otherwise.

“No, not at all.  Ben likes potato and leek, but I didn’t have any leeks so it’s minestrone.”

“You asked Jones what his favourite soup was?”  John felt the pettiness rising in him again; this time he didn’t like it.

“Are you jealous I know something about Ben that you don’t?”  Sarah’s tone was gently teasing, which needled John slightly because she was very close to the mark.  “His gran told me.  In fact, she gave me quite a long list of his food preferences.”

“Oh.  Right.”  John though for a moment.  “Would you have made potato and leek if you’d had the ingredients?”  It was a childish question, but John had to know.

Sarah kissed him again, took his hand and started to lead him back into the living room.  “Don’t be silly, darling; that would have been far too heavy for Ben’s stomach.  At least with the minestrone he can have some of the broth.  I’ll make up a tray for him if he’s able to sit up in bed.  You can take it up, if you like.”

John barely managed to stifle his yelp of disbelief.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompt: When Sarah starts to fuss over a flu-stricken Jones, John starts to feel a bit jealous of the attention.


End file.
